


Tell Me on a Sunday

by rebelcoelacanth



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Attempt 218, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 13:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13741560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelcoelacanth/pseuds/rebelcoelacanth
Summary: Attempt #218Fights, friendships, secrets, and, perhaps, a future.





	Tell Me on a Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> To any concerned party, yes this will be a romantic Elhani relationship I promise.

Eleanor Shellstrop sat in her new living room under the watchful eyes of several clowns, waiting to meet her soulmate. Or rather, the soulmate the universe had chosen for a different, better person. She had watched the tape of her alleged memories multiple times, attempting to glean enough information to build a convincing personality behind which to hide, and she could not deny it. Whoever these memories belonged to must have been a literal saint. All those churchy people probably fought over who got to saint-ify her.

‘This lady’s soulmate is probably Gandhi or something.’ Eleanor thought to herself, sighing dramatically and sinking deeper into the couch to await her doom.

The person who stood at the doorway fifteen minutes later was certainly not Mahatma Gandhi. She had a tall, muscular build that still managed to exude grace and elegance as she leant against the doorframe. A high, lilting laugh escaped her perfect lips as she stepped in and looked around. Casting her eyes on Eleanor, she stepped forward and embraced her with a hug.

Eleanor’s brain, which had been struggling to keep up since this gorgeous woman’s appearance, gave up trying. She hugged back weakly, and felt herself being pushed away slightly. She looked up and caught the woman’s eyes. Big, soft brown eyes that crinkled at the corners.

“You are too cute!” the woman said, pinching the tip of Eleanor’s nose and wiggling it slightly. This brought Eleanor back to her senses slightly as she tried to process why someone had just pinched at her face. She took a small step back as a preventative measure. She wasn’t much a fan of being treated as “cute.”

Tahani grasped Eleanor’s hands in her own, “we are going to be the best of friends I can already tell!” At this, Eleanor’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. Friends? She had figured soulmates were a romantic thing. Turning to Michael for clarity, she noticed that he had gone. It was just the two of them.

She stood, her hands tucked slightly into her jeans pockets, staring at the woman who thought she was her soulmate, whatever that meant. “So, d’you want a beer or something?”

“Oh,” a brief look of surprise flitted across Tahani’s face, “no thank you I am not much of a beer drinker,” she offered air quotes around the words ‘beer drinker’, “perhaps we could have tea? It is nearly  four o’clock after all.”

Eleanor wasn’t sure what it being 4pm had to do with their beverages. Perhaps Tahani was one of those judgy “no booze til five” sorts of people. That would be just Eleanor’s luck.

“Uhm, yeah sure, lemme just see what I have.” Eleanor excused herself to the kitchen, and began rummaging around in the cupboard. She managed to find two weird, mismatched, modernist mugs, but no tea.

“Uhhh, Jordan? Jamie? Jagger? Jane? Janet?”

“Hi!”

Eleanor jumped back slightly, holding out one of the mugs at the noise intrusion. She lowered it when she saw Janet.

“How can I help you?”

“Can you get me some tea?”

“Sure!” With a pop, Janet was gone. With another pop, Janet was back, a canister of loose tea in her hands. “This is one of Tahani’s favorite teas. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“What?” Eleanor asked, distracted by the weird black sticks and flakes in the canister. “Oh, no, thanks.” Pop.

“What the fork do I do with this? Where are the bags and the string things?” Eleanor asked, but Janet was already gone. “Joey? Janelle?” Eleanor gave up. She scanned her kitchen, and her eyes fell on her coffee maker.

“Perfect.” She removed the dirty filter and lay a clean one, filling it with the weird flakes and sticks. She filled the water compartment and switched on the pot. “Being fancy is easy” Eleanor said to herself as she watched the pale brown liquid drip into the pot. She filled the weird cups with her tea and carried them into the living room. Tahani sat waiting, perched neatly on the edge of the couch, sitting up straight with her hair cascading around her. She really was…

“Hot” Eleanor said, handing one of the mugs to Tahani. Tahani accepted it graciously and took a small sip. Her face contorted, and she tried to hide it. “This is… quite an unusal tea. What is the blend?”

“I think it’s from, uh, Cabo?” Eleanor offered, taking a sip of her own. Gross. Tea is gross.

The two drank in awkward silence. Tahani would occasionally interject with a question or comment. Each time, Eleanor would panic, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Each time, Tahani’s expression told her she’d failed. She knew that if she wanted to stay in The Good Place, she needed to be the best friend Tahani could ever dream of. And, she thought to herself, that might not involve coffee pot tea.

The question, then: what should this friendship become?


End file.
